Visited Upon the Son

Disclaimer: I live in Texas, not Scotland, so I am obviously not JK Rowling. I’m

just playing with the wonderful characters that she created. I promise that I will put them

back the way I found them when I’m done!

AN: Okay guys. This is my first HP fanfic, so I hope everyone likes it. I don’t

know how often I’ll update, but I will tell you that reviews give me inspiration! Enjoy!!!

While I am posting this under the name “Visited Upon the Son” the Title that I came up with

is really “Sins of the Father”, but seeing how many fic’s had that name…I modified it!

Visited Upon the Son

© SparkyCSI

"The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children." - Shakespeare, "The Merchant of

Venice," act III, sc. V, l. 1

Chapter 1. Old Enemies

May 1, 1997

Hermione Granger looked around her at the dark and dank dungeon that she was being held in.

She tested the restraints around her wrists, hoping that they would come free. Just my

bloody luck, she thought when the restraints just tightened on her wrists. She ceased her

struggling, knowing that for the meantime it was useless to fight back. Brightest witch

of my generation my bloody arse! If I’m so bloody bright, how did I get myself into this

stupid situation?

She sighed in relief as the restraints eased when she stopped struggling. She felt like

a fool. She knew that splitting up from Harry and Ron was a mistake, but she was so sure

that she could handle whatever spell anyone could throw at her that she insisted that she

would be fine. She didn’t see the three Death Eaters waiting for her behind the statue of

the gargoyle not far from the Great Hall. She had heard the stunning spell being

yelled, but reacted to late. When she woke up from the spell, she was chained to the wall

of a pitch black dungeon, her wand nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, she jumped. She heard footsteps outside the door. She squinted in pain as the

door opened, flooding the room with bright light, which after the complete darkness of the

dungeon, blinded her. Her eyes watered as they finally adjusted to the increased light

levels and she gasped at the sight in front of her. Lord Voldemort.

She cringed in disgust as he walked over to her and ran his hand down her face.

“Ah. Potter’s little Mudblood,” he said. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for a long

time. I think it’s time that you learned your place in the magical world.”

Hermione cringed at the evil laughter that erupted from his throat. She flinched when his

hand moved from her face and started to work its way down her chest. She saw him move his

lips, but could not hear any sound due to the blood rushing in her hears. Then she felt a

breeze on bare skin and looked down to see than he had made all of her clothes vanish. She

whimpered as he began to violate her body…

July 31, 2002

Hermione sat up in bed, a scream tearing from her throat. She panted as the remnants of the

nightmarish dream played in her head. “Oh Merlin. Why do I keep dreaming about that awful

day?”

She looked at the clock on her bedside table. The dial glowed, proudly announcing that it

was three o’clock in the morning. She shuddered. Lying back down, she tried to go back to

sleep, but it alluded her. She finally gave up the fight at four and decided to go take a

shower. This was a ritual after she had the nightmare. She would take a shower and try to

make herself feel clean again.

When she exited the shower, she took a long look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes, which

once sparkled with life, were dull with dark rings around them. Her brown hair was no

longer bushy, but she kept the length to just below her shoulders. She looked at herself in

disgust at the shell that she had become, and then she realized the date.

Damn it! Today is Harry’s birthday. He would have been twenty-two, she thought

sadly. The war had been ended, but the cost was high. Everyone in the wizarding community

had lost a friend or family member to the war. Those closest to Harry Potter had lost the

most.

The Weasley’s had lost Ron, Charlie and Percy—who had finally come to his senses. Hermione

had lost both of her parents to a Death Eater raid on her house. The biggest loss of the

all was the death of Harry. He had died just as he killed Voldemort. Hermione was at a

loss for a year after the fateful final battle. She drifted from place to place, trying to

lose herself in the dark pit of despair that had overwhelmed her.

She sighed as the tears filled her eyes. If it had not been for Professor McGonagall,

Hermione knew she would have taken her life on the first anniversary of the end of the

battle. She smiled sadly as she thought back to that fateful day.

June 2, 1998

Hermione stood at the grave of Harry and Ron. She looked down at the solemn tombstone that

marked their graves. “Harry James Potter and Ronald Weasley. Best Friends who paid the

ultimate price for the good of mankind.” She wept silently for her lost friends and sank

down to the ground in her grief.

“Harry. Ron. It’s me, Hermione. I don’t know what I will do without you. It turns out

that I’m not at all that brave. Harry, you are the greatest wizard that ever lived. You

gave me more courage than you will ever know.” She let out a choked sob, her tears falling

to the ground. “Ron. I loved you. You were my first love. I just wish that I could have

told you that before the final battle, but I didn’t want to distract any of us from the task

at hand. I never expected both of you to die on me. You were not supposed to die! That’s

not how this was supposed to end. Ron…We should be getting married; instead I’m left here

with a shattered heart. But I’ve made up my mind. I can’t live in this world anymore.

Soon, I’ll join you.”

With a shaking hand, she withdrew a small vial of a potion from inside of her robe. She

drew a breath, trying get up the courage to drink it. It was a powerful potion that she had

created, that would kill her painlessly. Just as put the vial to her lips, she heard a

shout behind her.

“Accio vial!”

She turned in rage as the potion flew out of her hands and into the hands of her mentor.

Professor McGonagall ran up to her. “My dear girl! What are you doing?”

Hermione broke down. “I just want to die! I don’t deserve to live,” she wailed.

Minerva looked down that the broken girl, in concern. “Hermione, it will be alright.” She

started to continue, but realized that she was not listening to her. Instead, she gave into

her mothering instincts and gathered her in her arms, letting her sob out all of her

pain.

Hermione knew that she owed her life to her mentor. She had not only stopped her from

committing suicide, but she had given her a reason to live again. She had offered her the

position of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts, her reasoning being that since Hermione

was her top student and always helping Harry and Ron with their homework, she would be

perfect for the job.

With a deep breath, Hermione drew herself away from the mirror and the memories that she

always found there. She walked back into her bedroom, grabbing a pair of yoga pants and T-

shirt out of her closet. She quickly dressed and walked into her kitchen to start

breakfast.

As the eggs were boiling, she heard a meow. She smiled and looked down at Crookshanks, who

was winding his way around her feet. “I guess you want breakfast, too.” She moved to the

pantry and withdrew some dry cat food for him. She filled up his bowl and made sure that he

had plenty of water. “Well, boy. Do you think you are up for a trip to the cemetery? Then

I need to head over to Molly’s. She’ll want to have the family all together for this solemn

occasion.”

Crookshanks looked up at her and gave a meow of consent. Hermione smiled fondly as she bent

down to pet his head. “Thanks, old boy.” Just then the egg timer went off and Hermione sat

down to eat her own breakfast.

A couple of hours later, after reading the Daily Prophet, she got dressed in a sober black

suit. The A-line skirt fell to just below her knees and the fitted jacked hugged her

curves. She grabbed her best black robe to go on over it and grabbed the bouquet of lilies

that she had purchased for the occasion.

Then she grabbed her wand and Appearated to the small, concealed cemetery where Harry was

buried.

She walked to the grave, noticing the peaceful quality in the air. When she got to his

grave, she bent over and put the flowers in the urn. “Happy birthday, Harry. I still miss

you, even after five years. I hope that you and your Mum and Dad are happy together.” She

bowed her head in a silent prayer, and then stood back up to leave. Then with a crack, she

Appearated to the Burrow.

Hermione made her way up the steps, to the home of the woman whom she considered to be her

second mother. She smiled as she walked in, the scent of lunch wafting throughout the air.

With a small smile on her face, she walked into the kitchen. “Hello, Molly. Can I help?”

Molly Weasley jumped in surprise. “Oh goodness, Mia. You startled me! But, no dear. I

don’t need any help. You just sit there and relax.”

Hermione nodded, knowing that it was still useless to argue with Molly. She took the time

to study her, taking in the changes that the previous five years had wrought. She was still

a little plump, with more grey in her red hair. Her face was still kind, but there were

more lines around her eyes.

“Are you sure? Who all is coming today?”

Molly smiled. “Yes, dear. I’m sure. Everyone will be here except for Bill, Fleur and

their children. Bill flooed me this morning and said that the children had terrible colds

and he didn’t want to risk getting anyone else sick.”

Hermione nodded. “I understand. How is Ginny doing?”

Molly sighed at that question. Ginny had taken Harry’s death the hardest. If she had not

found out a few weeks after the battle that she was pregnant, Hermione was sure that she

would have followed Harry to the grave. “She was up this morning crying, but she is trying

to put on a brave face for James and Lily.” Molly’s face lit up at the mention of her

grandchildren, who were four years old. “I think that she has come to terms with his death,

for the most part, but she still misses him terribly.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by the sound of running feet. She

turned as the two children ran into the kitchen. “Aunt Mia! Aunt Mia!” they yelled.

“Hi, Jamie. Hi, Lily.” She opened her arms to the two children and quickly enveloped them

into a hug. Jamie looked just like his father, black hair and emerald green eyes, while

Lily took after Ginny with red hair and green eyes.

“James Arthur Potter! Lilith Molly Potter! What have I told you about yelling indoors?”

scolded Ginny as she walked in behind them.

“Sorry, Mum” came the subdued response from both children.

Ginny smiled. “That’s alright. Just use your indoor voice from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hermione looked at Ginny. She had grown more beautiful in the previous five years. Her

hair was still a fiery red, but her body had filled out to that of a woman. She was slender

and very tall.

Ginny smiled at Hermione as she sat down at the table. “Hi, Mia. How are you doing?” she

said as she looked into Hermione’s eyes.

“I’m okay,” the brunette responded. She looked back into Ginny’s eyes and noticed that they

were still red. “How are you doing?”

Ginny sighed. “A little bit better each day. It helps having those two around. I can’t

feel sad for very long when they are in a playful mood. I’ll admit that I miss him, but for

their sake, I have to move on.”

Hermione nodded her understanding. “I know. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Close to an hour later, the house had filled up with the remaining guests. Fred, George and

Arthur had shown up, along with Remus, Tonks and Professor McGonagall. Molly was in her

element, entertaining all the guests.

After lunch, the adults retired to the living room and Ginny had put the twins down for a

nap. Hermione sat in the chair, watching the flames of the fire flicker as she was lost in

her thoughts. She was startled out of those thoughts by Professor McGonagall.

“Hermione, dear. Can I speak to you in the kitchen?”

Hermione looked at her, with a question in her eyes. “Alright.” She got up and followed

the older witch into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

Minerva sighed. “I don’t know how to say this to you, but I wanted you to hear it from

me.”

“Minerva, you’re scaring me. Are you retiring?”

Minerva smiled. “No dear. We have finally filled the Potions position.”

Hermione smiled in relief. “Oh. That’s good! We haven’t had a decent professor for that

class since I began teaching.”

“Yes, it is good. But…” Minerva trailed off.

“But what?”

“The person who is going to teach is Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione’s eyes opened in shock. “Malfoy? Minerva, I…I don’t…” Hermione trailed off in

disbelief.

“Dear, I know that you two had your differences in school, but he was cleared of all

charges. He did give us valuable information that helped us locate Voldemort and Snape.

His grades were second to only yours in that class. He truly is the best person for the

job.”

Hermione felt her world drop from under her. She just shook her head from side to side in

her astonishment. “I can’t work with him, Professor. You know this better than anyone.”

Minerva started to say something, but Hermione cut her off. “I can’t handle this,” she said

tearfully as she got up from the table. She then ran outside in her distress. She didn’t

stop running until she had reached the small pond on the Weasley’s property. There she sank

down to the ground, sobs racking her entire frame.

AN: Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Did you love it or hate it? Let me know!

Oh, and I am posting this on Fanfiction.net as well. I'll update these chapter's fairly

quickly, so that I can update them on the same day.